


And Then...?

by CatFiveDuck



Category: Dragon Ball
Genre: Dominance, F/M, Porn With Plot, Sexual Humor, Sexual Roleplay, Silly, Smut, Submission
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-02
Updated: 2021-01-02
Packaged: 2021-03-12 12:16:17
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,822
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28510293
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CatFiveDuck/pseuds/CatFiveDuck
Summary: The time swallowed by Trunks' new role has left both he and Mai just a tad pent up. Mai has a plan to not only resolve this problem, but to lead Trunks into being a little more honest, and a lot more vulnerable.
Relationships: Trunks Briefs/Mai
Comments: 6
Kudos: 9





	And Then...?

**Author's Note:**

> This work is dedicated to RyeCereal who, when spotting my Twitter poll asking whether to write MarTen or TruMai next, jokingly multivoted for TruMai with too many accounts, so Twitter suspended her main. RC literally went down with her ship and very specifically for this fic. I hope this read was worth it! 
> 
> This is a standalone, but I know how to continue this so a second part (or more) may happen.
> 
> Trigger Warning: the piece, whilst in good humour, plays on elements of exploiting power dynamics. I think it's a healthy portrayal of a common fantasy, loving, and heavy on the consent, but just in case my sensibilities are out of whack and you're adverse to any kind of Dominance/submission - silly or otherwise - consider this a heads up for potential triggers :) !

Trunks ground his teeth, hoping his twitching jaw wasn't visible on the video call. The tone of his seven area managers had passed needlessly testy into outright hostility. "There's a clear path to minimising cost here," Trunks said, though maybe it wasn't as clear as he'd hoped, "the solution only requires a little give and take."

"Sir, I'm not sacrificing any of our budget for South," East's manager practically spat.

"It's an initial investment necessary for their restructuring." Trunks spoke slowly, hoping to placate her. "You'll get that portion back and more the year after for your own shake-up. If South goes smoothly you might even see some returns in the reforecast."

"'Might' isn't a guarantee. Let East go first. You saw how fast we pivoted production lines when Kuisa brought out their six seat copter. We'll have it all done in six months, tops." 

But as true as that was, starting with East wasn't the most efficient way. "South have most of the resource extraction plants. We need to restructure from the ground up." 

East tutted.

"He can just take your money anyway." South's manager's enduring smugness at 'winning' was not helping matters.

"I'd rather we all be on the same page," Trunks said, hoping that would be olive branch enough to get East to think of the bigger picture. But it wasn't, and she started to reel off a decade's worth of East's impressive investment returns, which prompted other area managers to unmute and argue the algorithm's validity.

Just as Trunks was about to scream his calendar flashed to remind him of his two o'clock, the bogus Northern Stakeholder meeting he'd asked the Exec Assistant Shohi to shove in for him. The only way he got time to himself nowadays was to take fake meetings - even lunch wasn't sacred to these people.

"I'm sorry, I need to be on another call," Trunks lied, almost shouting over the din. "Can you decide between South, Far West and North for the initial investment? South is my preference. Thanks." He quit the call before anyone could draw him in further and shook off his suit jacket, along with the weight of the day. Within seconds East had emailed him the figures she'd quoted and Trunks had to try _very_ hard not to throw his stylus through the screen.

He'd been in the role of President for three months now, a position his mother had foisted on him as a twenty-eighth birthday present, but more, he believed, as a late sixtieth to herself and a true retirement one for his grandfather. Trunks' remarkable ascent hadn't been undeserved. He had the family touch for technology and unfortunately for him this translated well to breaking apart, oiling and optimising processes and people; from tiny teams of designers to the behemoth of a machine that was Capsule Corporation itself. Successful automotive designs in his first team took him to department lead then management of operations across all lines in the Northern regions, and reading that as proof he could operate _all_ regions, the board were unanimous in promoting him to the vacancy his mother left. He enjoyed the problem-solving the job entailed, but not the stubborn barriers; the jump from area-managing seven sectors to the full forty-three had been a shock, not just for the six-fold increase in responsibility, but finding out his mother's hands-off approach hadn't only been for him. With their autonomy curtailed by the 'yappy upstart', the area managers were rebelling against his perfectly reasonable optimisations.

Trunks pressed on tired eyes under his horn-rimmed glasses and sighed, a deep one sounding long and clear. It was an attempt to let some part of him reach the far ends of the curved, cavernous office he now lived in; his existence stuck between the desk and the couches before him, the full space only necessary to impress representatives of other companies with its understated opulence. As President, Trunks had an absolute, heady power, but like his office it was all for show and he couldn't make use of any of it without being deemed unreasonable.

The calendar alert reflashed, catching his attention. Alongside the fake meeting sat one other, a double-booking, with the simple title of "Personal Development". The meeting had been set to private, something none of the Exec Assistants could do. When did he do that?

The culprit of the calendar hijack made herself known with a double knock. He’d been so lost to work he hadn’t sensed her approach. Mai was through the door and quietly locking it behind her before he could formally invite her in, her hair twisted back and overalls dirtied from engine grease. She hit the button for the secrecy curtain and the wall of windows behind him instantaneously frosted and darkened, dappling and dimming the afternoon sun. 

With the door locked and meeting mics off there was no need for airs and graces. Mai's company hadn't been part of his goofing off plan, but spending quality time with the person he'd been missing the most in this onslaught sounded perfect. 

"Hey," he said, tossing the stylus onto his paperwork, "what's up?"

"You asked to meet with me, Sir. I'm your two o'clock."

That gave him pause. He hadn’t, and she wasn't. Mai held herself tall when crossing the office to his desk. A light blush coloured her cheeks and she subconsciously held her ki steady with slowed breath - meaning she was nervous, but pretending not to be. 

"' _Sir_ '?" he said carefully. "What did I do to deserve that little jab?" 

In answer to his questions, Mai tugged at her overalls' poppers, clicks sounding from neck to hips. Her jaw stiffened, then she let go, the overalls hitting the floor at the same moment Trunks’ chin did. 

Mai had transformed herself. She wore a white, form-fitted, buttoned blouse, the neckline brushing her cleavage, and a very, very tight high-waisted black skirt that rode just above her knee. She stepped out of the overalls, barefoot save for stockings, leaving her tattered work boots behind. As if to emphasise the metamorphosis she slid her hair tie to her wrist, shaking out her long hair, the thick, straight strands falling neatly behind her shoulders like a black veil. The officewear just about met dresscode but for Mai this was positively scandalous. 

Trunks slowly closed his laptop, the desk screens blinking off. On a second thought he shoved the laptop in his drawer for good measure. "W.. What-"

Mai ignored his stammer to pass him a dog-earred clipboard, one that had been sat on his desk under a stack of stapled reports the entire time. "Here's my resume," she said. Trunks took the board with both hands, suspicion rife, and lifted the blank first page with infinite curiosity. The second page was almost blank too, save her graceful handwriting in mechanical pencil.

_Cut loose and take for once. I know you want to._ She'd added a winking face.

"'Personal Development,'" he said to himself, finally understanding her little joke and she nodded. But Trunks couldn't help but question the gift. "Here?"

"Why not? The doors are locked. I hit the secrecy curtain so we're safe from prying eyes. No one's bugged the room - I checked this morning."

"But even if we aren't caught, mightn't it be a little obvious during my next face-to-face that something's gone on?"

She shrugged. "Depends how much of a mess you make. You can always open a window." He choked on her forwardness. "Last week," she said, "over that rushed lunch on those very couches you said, and I quote, 'If I wasn't so stuck in my own head I'd take you right here'. So. I'm here to make good on that and get you unstuck. Take the improv as far as you like."

"I was joking…" he said, though that was a weak rebuttal because they both knew he hadn't been. They'd been jointly voicing their frustrations at barely spending any time together - intimate or otherwise - due to Trunks' new role. Mai had pointed out that any other man would have let the promotion go to his head, his increased social standing giving him leverage to flex his power and push every boundary he could in work and out, but for Trunks the responsibility had become a self-constructed prison of needing to demonstrate his restraint, adding to his usual hang ups that he desperately wanted to break from. Getting intimate with his girlfriend in his own office would be pathetically tame compared to some celebratory stories he'd heard, but a huge leap for him. Mai's ingenious solution then was to pretend they weren't quite themselves. Bizarre though the idea was, it had its merits. "What if you don't like where my mind goes?" Trunks asked, surprised he was even entertaining the idea.

"Then I'll call 'red'. I promise. Though I'm curious about the supposed darkness beyond your usual vulnerability issues you keep worrying over. And I have to warn you - I've been distracted all week planning this so you have a lot to live up to." 

At least she had honesty enough to admit this was ultimately her booty call. "Thanks for the heads up," he said flatly, though what fantasies she could have been alluding to was anyone's guess.

"So..." Mai coyly curled a strand of hair around a finger.

"So." Hell, why not. They'd only get as far as kissing on the couches before chickening out, but at least his frustrated mind could be occupied spinning a yarn. Trunks cleared his throat, and made to look over the imaginary resume. "My apologies, I'm a very busy man. Remind me who you are again, Miss..?"

"Miss is fine." Mai flashed a demure smile, one that suited her delicate features but was the antithesis of her true frankness. He'd seen her wear it before to beguile acquaintances but otherwise pass as unthreatening and unremarkable. Its deployment on him felt alien. "HR said you had an opening," she said, "that you'd be able to find something suitable to my... talents." She took a breath in such a way her chest heaved, the blouse buttons straining under pressure. Trunks returned to her fake resume to keep his cool. Though he read the words _cut loose_ again, and his mind ticked over anyway. The very idea of taking her in his office... On reflection it was a terrible idea. Absolutely terrible.

"I have plenty of engineers already," he found himself saying instead. "What makes you special?"

She held up a hand to pause. "Not a sexy secretary?"

"I don't want to be thinking of Shohi." She had talons and the proportions of a middle-aged snowman. "Besides, I can dredge up far more engineering innuendos."

"Fair." The soft young woman resurfaced. "I graduated from many Universities with all of the engineering degrees."

"So I see," he said, running a reading finger over the blank pages. "From the very best places, too. Any real-world experience?"

She shook her head, eyes shining. "None, for I am a recent graduate. But like all naïve twenty-somethings with a pointless piece of paper I have an unwarranted confidence that needs to be quashed. Still, I believe it prudent to tell you that I was the favourite protégé of several professors." She tongued the inside of her cheek, and Trunks' heart skipped at the mere suggestion.

"And now I'm intrigued. Please, sit." Trunks gestured to the two chocolate leather couches, the glass coffee table between them empty save for coasters. He followed Mai, discreetly rearranging himself through his suit pants pocket. Things had been getting tight, and he couldn't give Mai the satisfaction of knowing she was hitting all his primitive buttons this early. 

Mai perched herself on the edge of one couch seat, hands in lap, placidly smiling, and Trunks sat opposite, mirroring her enthusiasm at first; though remembering horrid advice one tech exec had given him about luring women many years ago, switched to a sinking slouch, arms wide on the couch back and ankle across knee. Whilst a chauvinist, the exec was right. The foolish feeling faded with the injection of heady confidence this pose lent. He mulled over his next words.

"I have a very big project coming up," he said. Mai's gaze flicked to his crotch, but she otherwise held her poise. "I have to be sure whoever joins my team can handle it." 

"That won't be an issue. I'm a quick learner when given explicit instruction, and I relish a challenge." 

So she was feeling cocky. In that case... "I'll hold you to that." Trunks said. "Now strip."

"Sir?"

His stomach fluttered at her simple riposte. That one little word said in earnest made him squeeze the back of the couch to bring himself back down. Sure, plenty of people deferred to him in that way, but never without grubby ulterior motive and never with that purr. _Sir_. "It's a very particular type of motor I have to get running," he said, doing his best to sound bored, "the engineers I let work on it must be physically fit. I need you to take off your blouse so I can inspect you, simple as that."

With a very real blush Mai nodded at his warped logic. She slowly undid her top button, revealing the pink lace trimming of her bra just peeping over the next. Unless he hadn't been paying attention this was new lingerie, confirming that she had indeed been planning this day for a long while. He could already feel the lace, the softness of her skin against his thumbs, the weight of her pert breasts in his hands... She ended his racing daydreams by hesitating at the next button.

"This seems very inappropriate." Her little smile let him know she was teasing. She wanted to be persuaded, then.

"We work on top secret projects here, and the project I have in mind is pretty close to me. I need to know we can trust each other with intimate details."

"I follow your reasoning but, don't you have a partner?"

Her words struck his stomach and he recoiled at the brutal coldness, bringing him to a shamed ball. The couch was no longer comfortable and his character broke. "Oh, that's just mean."

But Mai was unabashed, smoothing her skirt. "What? You do have a loving, wonderful, partner. Sneaking behind her back makes the game all the more exciting." She winked.

"Please clarify. You want me to play a cheat?"

"I want you to play the version of yourself who takes what he could so obviously get. The man that gives in to his carnal desires." Her gaze had slipped as though she was seeing through him to that selfish spark. "You're far too polite for those thoughts to ordinarily cross your mind, but I'd like to know what fire I could have tamed." 

Mai swayed her knees a little, playing at coquettish. The idea he'd have the impetus to cheat was absurd, Lord knows that had been well-tested with all manner of people throwing themselves at him for the chance to be brushed with his status. But the temptation to flex that power for its own sake, just this once… 

"Fine." If she wanted to see the depths his mind could fall to, he'd show her. She could always call 'red'. He settled back on the couch, and for once quietened the filter that had kept his ego in check since his late teens. He sank deeper, the leather cooling his wrists. "You're right. I do have a partner. But since her skillset leaves a lot to be desired she can't be trusted on a project as important and secret as this. Even she can't know if I choose to hire you."

Mai pouted at his insult, but to her credit she called no end to the game. "And this is how all interviews work in engineering?" her persona, Miss, asked.

"Of course - only for the most rewarding of projects, you understand."

Miss nodded, satisfied. She stood, deftly undoing the remaining blouse buttons in one stroke, and shrugged the garment off onto the coffee table between them. "Did you want me to remove this, too?" She thumbed her bra straps.

Trunks made to lazily look over her body, pretending not to notice Mai's tensed abs. The bra was definitely new, there was no way he'd forget the sheer nature of it, areolas most visible and alluring among embroidery of pink roses and pale green leaves that joined to form the lace edging. "No, don't take it off just yet." The lace looked good on her, and they might as well save their blushes should the worst happen and they be interrupted; although with the boundary he was readying to push, her being naked from the waist up would be the least notable part of the scene. "I can see you're physically fit, but I do need you to get a little closer."

Miss obliged, circling the coffee table with a ridiculously exaggerated sashay of hips to stand before him. At this distance her hardening nipples were obvious through the fine lace. He'd only glanced, but her arousal, mirrored in her fluttering ki, etched an afterimage in his mind. 

Trunks brought his knees together and gestured to his lap. "I need to know your weight, to ensure our machinery is suitable. Please." 

"Like this?" She straddled him, bringing her knees right to the couch cushions to sit a tantalising inch away from grinding on him. If he sat up he could have rested his face right between her warm breasts, and whilst his body screamed at him to do so, he resisted temptation. He couldn't blink first.

"A perfect position. Are you sure you haven't interviewed before?" 

Miss shook her head, doe-eyed. "I figured you'd need an even weight distribution to get an accurate estimation."

"And that's precisely the kind of mind-reading I greatly value in my team." He slid his hands under her thighs to cup and gently bounce her with all the regard one would give a sack of meat. To his amusement Mai made to bite her lip but caught herself, and just as she began to close her eyes he let go. That would be enough to prove he could up the ante just as easily.

"Acceptable," Trunks said, "I'd say a little less than the half-tonne tolerance of our forklift."

Mai made to scoff but bit it back, reverting to the placid prison of a character she'd built for herself. "I could have told you my weight if you'd asked."

"I'm sure, but I like to do these spot checks myself."

"That's very thorough of you."

"I'm nothing but..."

This close her lips shined and he stared, caught on them, the gap between he and Mai closing. He smelt sandalwood on her, so different from her usual jasmine perfume, like she planned every detail to confuse and excite him with new clothes and demeanour. He swallowed. Hang it all. He'd missed her, and he did want her, and wanted her here. _She said to go for it so just go for it, play the game and go for it -_

"Now, for the next stage of the interview." His mind raced ahead scripting, branching, knowing where he wanted to end up if she'd only allow it. "I need a good communicator, and this oral exam is in two parts."

Mai pressed her lips together to suppress the faintest hint of a laugh, before returning to innocence. "I'm well prepared for anything you might need me to get my tongue around."

"Good. Now kiss me."

"Why, Sir?"

His stomach flipped again. "Can your tongue master the jargon we use here? A strong kiss is highly correlated with the capability - and you can't argue with science." His added assertion was enough to placate her sceptical look.

"Well, okay. I'll try my very best." She lifted his glasses to the top of his head and stroked his bangs back with them. Her outline blurred this close, she becoming a hazy dream to him. Trunks fought the urge to rise to meet her, instead letting her brace herself on the couch behind him and close the gap. Just the first touch of her soft lips was enough to blast out the rest of the world, the gloss he'd seen a sticky strawberry that he'd not yet tasted and now salivated for. Her first kisses were playfully tentative, and he held back from leading, but she soon sighed into him giving him space to suck her bottom lip. She rocked her hips in the same manner he'd lifted her, now nudging his growing erection, and whilst he'd managed to hold his character, the act shook him free of his hesitation.

He greedily stroked the back of her neck, urging her closer and their kiss grew in depth, her tongue exploratory, a move he mirrored. She soon held his face in response, and Trunks' own hands wandered down her cool, near-bear back, finding the wide waistband of her skirt, his fingers slipping beneath -

"Sir!" Mai withdrew, shoving her hand to his chest and him into the cushions, her outstretched arm separating them. "I don't see what my skirt has to do with an oral exam."

She was offended? No - her ki still held him close - playing at offended, then. Dazed, Trunks slowly came round to the room and game. He'd been too hasty, breaking character, blood rushing to the wrong place entirely. "You're right," he said, scrabbling for a ridiculous excuse, "my apologies. I pushed ahead because, because you're doing so well. You've ticked all boxes so far." 

"Oh." Mai feigned relief, all forgiven. "That's good to hear. Has anyone else been fast-tracked?"

"A few have by this stage." The idea that an entire team of senior engineers had attempted to kiss him with the utmost passion to prove their loyalty ran through his head, but he transfigured them to a line of pliant Mai clones soon enough. "You're ranking highly so far, though."

Mai smiled, 'Miss' clearly pleased with herself. "I plan to be on top by day's end. So. Part two?" 

To Trunks' surprise she licked her lips. Maybe a only another tease? He pressed a finger to her lips. "Dexterity first," he said. The build up would give her a chance to back out. "Fine motor skills are essential for engineers, I can't have them handling my delicate equipment without it. A simple demonstration will suffice. Undo my pants."

Miss shuffled back with renewed concentration until she knelt on the floor. She made a full, teasing project of her assigned task, resting the heels of her palms on his groin, slowly tugging out the leather strap, letting the belt trail over his pants and hardened shaft. He shivered at the light touch, flexing his thighs to prevent him squirming further. His button flicked and his zip clicked-clicked-clicked, her fingers hovering, the teasing warmth of her hands reaching him. She lifted his shirt and parted the belt and buckle and fabric, stroking them flat, revealing the tidied purple hair that reached his navel and his navy boxer briefs. Then she back-peddled into the table, wide-eyed, clutching her chest with the hammiest of faux shocks.

"Now _that_ is most unprofessional!" 

Trunks sat up a little to see exactly what she meant. The outline of his flipped-up hard on was admittedly difficult to ignore and unfortunately, as hard as he'd tried to keep his thoughts tamed, precum had darkened a patch of his underwear. _Oh come on._ With that undeniable display of arousal he'd shown his hand first. Mai couldn't have been far behind; she frowned at him with a forced intensity, but her attention was otherwise honed on his junk, her own arousal pulsing in waves of ki. Most importantly, she hadn't called 'red'.

"I told you," he said, "I like to participate in the interview process, and _that_ is a necessary component for the second part of your oral exam." He hesitated over his next words, the consequences of exposing himself at work crossing his mind but his libido hastily scrubbed that worry, reminding him the door was locked and he'd absolutely be able to sense anyone before they knocked the door. And besides, it said, he needed to look at the bigger picture. _You're about to have Mai's lips around you, right here, on this couch. Every time you're frustrated with some jackass you'll know exactly what happened in the spot you'll make them sit and no one can take that memory from you._

Future revenge plans settled, he shuffled down his pants and lifted the underwear waistband up and away and from him. His hardened cock, finally freed from jarring angle, rested against his line of pubes, warm on his stomach. The ambient air felt cool, making the faint, readied tingling of his erection all the more present. He half expected her to make a gaudy comment on his size or shape, but she passed in favour of looming close with curiosity, her breath acting as the gentlest of strokes.

"I need you to pleasure me." Trunks said, wrestling to keep an even tone. "If you can do that, you can handle any communication challenge within my team."

"You want me to put you in my mouth?" She spoke with cloying innocence.

"I want you to suck me off, yes." Though the want was fast becoming a need, and he sighed pre-emptively when Mai rocked up to rest her elbows either side of him, lifting his cock away from his stomach. Just a touch that wasn't his own propelled his thoughts into a sordid future.

She made sultry eye contact through her bangs and gently placing the underside of his head against her bottom lip, drawing out a bead of precum as he tensed. She tasted him with the tip of her tongue, then, with a suppressed, suspicious smile, sank pursed lips around him and sucked. Hard. So hard in fact he felt two very alarming ridges of teeth midshaft and he flinched, stuck between retreat and fearing he'd startle her into biting.

"W-what are you doing?" he squeaked. 

She released him with a very deliberate and pressured pop, a face of sweet innocence plastered over a grin. "Sucking you. Why? Did I do something wrong? I've never done this before." Her gentle strokes on his shaft smoothed over her faux pas, his erection deciding that, on balance, it would rather dice with danger and remain with him.

"You implied you had ample experience."

"By being good with my professors? That was your inference." She flashed a wicked smile. "I'm sorry, you'll have to teach me. But as I said, I'm great with explicit instruction." She squeezed his thigh.

And there it was. Mai's ulterior motive, to get him to open up. 

"Alright, alright, I get it. This is my oral exam, too."

"Whatever do you mean?" She winked. 

"Well for a start, don't use your teeth," he said.

"I thought that might be wrong." 

He snorted. "And don't suck like you're trying to drain the life from me. Don't blow, either," he said, pre-empting another playful misunderstanding. "'Blow job' is just a name."

"'Blow job'? Sir, I thought this was an interview."

_Tch._ "Well then, definitely don't."

Miss lifted him again and gently blew across the head. "Not even like that?"

He shivered. "...Maybe like that."

"But what _should_ I do?"

She wasn't going to let him off the hook, then. In the tension between his cringing embarrassment and roaring libido, the yearning for her complete touch eventually won. "I like it when y- ...we award extra points for teasing," he recovered. "That's simple enough with your breath, lips and tongue. Use your hands to add sensation - to hold, but not to squeeze tight. And the underside of the head is the most sensitive spot. Make use of that information as you will." He waved a hand to feign dismissiveness, an excuse to reel away in shame for speaking so plainly, but Mai's pride, swelling in her ki, brought him back and settled him.

"Was that all?" Miss said. With a barely concealed mischievous grin, Mai rasped just his head with a very broad and dry tongue. 

He winced. Oh. "And make it _wet_."

Her mission to frustrate him seemingly complete, Mai obliged without further teasing. Her mouth surrounded his tip, now wet and velveteen just as if he was sinking into her, only he had little say in the ensuing depth and angle. He relaxed into the cushions, letting out a little sigh as she renewed her grip. She pressed her tongue against him, flicking against his head and slowly stroked the rest of his shaft, the warmth she imparted spreading to his abdomen and thighs and turning to that growing tingle. With her free hand Miss pulled her hair over one shoulder to give him that beautiful view of porcelain collar bone then, with great care, she cupped him, lifting his balls with every upstroke she made, the gentleness making his toes curl and eliciting from him a breathy moan. Every part of his cock was held in some way, warm and wet as though he was penetrating her, yet he couldn't help but roll his hips, just a little, craving the tip of her tongue to lick and swirl harder.

One of her fingers pressed on his taint and something jolted inside of him, a pleasure that made him buck into her mouth. Miss jumped a little, but pleased with herself she pressed again. He hadn't asked for the massage, but Mai knew how enthusiastically his body responded every time, and how he'd wave her off about now, concern rife about the voice in his head demanding to go deeper. But wasn't this what this entire exercise was for, to embrace that selfishness, to have Miss service him completely?

"You're doing so well," he said. Most of Trunks' composure had slipped, his voice breathy, mind laser focused on the sensations growing from his cock, clever wordplay lethargic in trickling into his consciousness, "but you need to learn to take rebuttals."

Mai slowed, frowning in confusion, her head lifting and tongue falling still, until Trunks lightly placed his palm behind the crown of her head and stroked her hair. She freed her hand from beneath him - a relief in balance, the tightening deep within threatening to overwhelm - and propped herself on his thigh, fingers trailing on his bare stomach.

Trunks' first push was barely more than a suggestion, his hand following Miss' head down as she took more of his cock into her mouth, her lips kissing her high fist. Trunks let her withdraw, but his cock ached for her return and he gently pushed. She loosened the fist she'd made, giving her mouth more room to slip further down his shaft. And he felt it, every fraction more of her mouth and tongue he got to experience he loved and treasured. He needed more, and got his wish with every greedy push.

He finally felt something soft yet unyielding on his cock's head, something new - the back of her throat. Miss' eyes were closed in concentration, brow knotted, her free hand clenching. The new pressure made him moan. Her hand was barely on his cock now, two fingers and a thumb made just over an inch's barrier, an inch and he'd feel her throat proper and be enveloped completely. He rose to meet her, desperate, his breath quickening, his restraint loosening, using a second hand to push, feeling more, more - 

"Mm!" She double-tapped his stomach and he instinctively let go at her wretch, pulling back and throwing both hands in the air. Mai sat back on her heels, coughing through the gag he'd accidentally caused in his greed. He reached for her to apologise and she waved him off, but flashed a thumbs up in reassurance as her breath even out and cough subsided.

"I think," she eventually said, some composure regained, "I bit off more than I could chew." With her blouse she wiped her chin with a ludicrous daintiness and dabbed at her watering eyes, make-up unsmudged.

Despite Trunks' initial concern and guilt, his arousal persisted, washing away any other quibbling thoughts. He couldn't help himself; he held the base of his cock where she had, rhythmically squeezing it to sate its need for some form of touch. It wasn't Mai's choke that spurred him on. It was that she'd choked on _his_ cock whilst trying to _please him_ , taking herself to the very edge of her endurance just to follow orders. It was that he'd been able to take the game that far, and maybe he could take it in a different direction.

But Mai climbed to her feet, flicking out her blouse, readying to redress.

"Where do you think you're going?" he said, frustration creeping into his voice. With every passing moment his need to wield this unleashed power grew stronger. 

She paused, puzzled. "You want to continue? I thought you'd be put off."

"Are you kidding?" Trunks rocked to standing, still stroking himself, desperately holding onto that warmth with satisfaction so close. He took the blouse out her hands, dropping it on the table behind her again. He held her chin. "We haven't finished your interview yet."

"I don't believe it," she muttered more to herself, "it worked. You actually want to go through with this."

He brushed her bottom lip with his thumb, matching the stroke on his cock. "Engineers work long hours so need high endurance. I need to test this before I take you on. Take off your panties."

"Are you sure?" Mai said, glancing at the door behind her, Miss distant. "That's a really big step." 

"You started this," he said, Trunks' voice a distracted low rumble to even his ears, "and now I'm exactly where you wanted me to be, I'm going to finish. Take off your panties."

She took a long breath, then stepped back, mind made up to continue. The light flush to her cheeks returned but she held her silence and slowly, carefully, rolled up her skirt over delicate stockings and garter straps to reveal matching lace pink panties, the front embroidered but otherwise sheer, and he caught the briefest flash of dark hair. She pulled the panties down in sweeping strokes and daintily stepped out of them, discarding them on top of her blouse. 

"By my desk," he said. She nodded dutifully, the demureness of Miss resurfacing. She faced the darkened, screened windows and city beyond, fingers lightly trailing against piles of his papers and the dark wood. Trunks passed her his suit jacket from the back of his chair. "Now bend over."

She spread the jacket to make a cushion as he intended, and taking one last glance at his hardened cock pressed herself against the fabric and desk. His desk. At his command, for his pleasure. She bent at the waist and reached across the wood to anchor herself, her ass pert and inviting, the slit of her skirt rising - but not far enough for Trunks' taste. He let his pants fall to the floor, belt buckle clinking against button and bar, and leant over her, scooping her hair from her neck to breathe in the unfamiliar sandalwood perfume, running his hand down her near-bare back, resisting temptation to flick open the new bra to instead caress her smooth nylon skirt and ass beneath. He leant into the deception, substituting the image of his partner with the younger woman, someone new, someone eager to please, someone so ready to yield to the power he so lazily wielded.

"Is this the test?" Miss asked, Mai full well knowing the answer. 

"Soon will be." He ran his hands up her outer thighs, lightly on the stockings, and lifted her skirt over ass and hips. The three-strapped garter framed her perfectly. She arched her back for him, exposing her sweet, blushed lips, wetness already gathered at their edge, ready for him. "I'm going to enter you," he said, "and I will use you until I come. It's up to you not to give into the temptation to please yourself at my expense. I don't need selfish engineers on the job."

"Yes Sir." She splayed her fingers flat on the desk as if to firm up her promise. 

"Glad that's settled." He stroked her inner thigh this time and cupped her, and she tightened in anticipation. He trailed his middle finger across and beneath her lips, dragging her wetness out onto her clit, enjoying his turn as the teaser, using light circles until she mewled. He stopped. "If you're a good girl, you'll get more perks like that. But until then…"

Trunks guided his cock to her, grinding against her until wet enough to finally push in.

A joint relief flooded them. She tensed then relaxed as her burning need for penetration lifted, and he shivered in relief to be inside her at long last, learning yet again that her mouth was a mockery of this real sweetness - and he was barely past his head. He withdrew a little, the longing ache chastising him, so he slowly slipped back inside her, she so aroused he reached midshaft with no effort. She squeezed him, begging him silently for more. With his next stroke he obliged them both by going as deep as he could at this looming angle, hips pressing against her ass.

He savoured each stroke, watching with satisfaction as the young woman relaxed into his rhythm, her tensed fingers unfurling, leaving his papers screwed and strewn across the desk. He took his time to press his weight onto and into her, kissing her neck, holding her waist until he slipped his free hand under her, finding her breast, thumbing the lace and stroking her soft skin cooled by the desk, just as he'd imagined what seemed like an age ago. He knocked up the wire to let her soft breast fall into his hand, tugging on her nipple with each pump of his cock. Her cheek pressed into the table, her eyes closed and she bit her bottom lip to keep quiet. She was lost to his advances, to his will, and that only spurred him on.

At that sight their closeness paled against what he needed, the warm tingling in his groin reaching his stomach, begging him for release, for him to fuck her harder.

He stood upright and pulled both her hips onto him and away from his desk, his jacket slumping to the floor. She knocked papers out of her way and braced on the wood of the desk itself, just in time for his harder thrust and she gasped, more in surprise than anything, but the noise only encouraged him and on the next thrust he bottomed out. Her second moan had an edge of a grimace to it. And still she endured for him just like he wanted.

"I'm close," he choked out from habit more than anything; today of all days he'd finish when and how he wanted. He rolled his head back, lost to the knowledge that he could take this woman here, one time or many, that she'd do anything he asked with no consequences to himself, that he could take and take and all she'd do would nod and smile and gift him this enveloping warmth and softness and those little overwhelmed moans. And his true nature would be their secret -

That thought tripped a switch and possessed him entirely, tipping him over the edge to wind him taught and he picked up speed, grabbing her hips so tightly her skin blanched under his finger tips and would redden. She stifled a cry but did not pull away, instead squeezing his cock and he called in response. At that peak in sensation his body's tension finally released him and he came, cock pulsing, a euphoric warmth flooding through him. He held her against him, savouring the fading rush, then collapsed with her on the desk, both of them still save their panting, his glasses shaken loose, her hair mussed and flicking with her every breath.

Trunks held her for a while, really held her around her waist to stop her knees caving just so he could keep her close to him a little longer, kissing her neck. But he slipped from her soon enough, and creeping guilt made his hand wander down to help her finish. She batted him away.

"Not yet," she whispered, then added brightly through her veil of hair, "did I pass?" 

So they were still playing. He released her then grabbed at his pants. The monster Trunks had let loose had long evaporated, or at least shrunk, placated by its own success. He had to dig deep to find the mindset again, fully conscious of both their semi-naked states in his office. 

"Yes," he finally said, finding the clipped tone harder, and hearing for the first time how echoey this room was, "you performed most excellently." Miss smiled, unperturbed, taking to the task of redressing with a little more decorum than he had, turning down skirt and readjusting her bra, finding the rest of her clothes on the coffee table.

Trunks circled his desk to fall back in his chair, attempting to cast an air of nonchalance as he redid his zip and belt but still conscious of his sensitivity, still punch-drunk. Yet Miss didn't seem outwardly bothered. She soon stood to near-attention in front of him, office attire fixed, tidying flyaways with her fingers as a comb. "Have I done enough to join your close team, Sir?"

He felt the tentativeness in her ki when asking. She was speaking in code. _Did he want to do this again?_ was her real question. They hadn't been this close for a long time, and admittedly he'd never trusted her with that level of intensity, fearing her reaction to him. Whilst dangerous to do so here the new environment had been instrumental in breaking the cycle. "We'll get you started in Engineering," he said. "As for my secret project, we'll be building upon what we covered in your interview today - if you believe that would be something you'd enjoy?"

She made a show of thinking the offer over. "Well, I'll admit I wasn't expecting such a thorough grilling, but I would like to try again - to monitor my progress?"

He relaxed. She'd enjoyed herself, too. "We can focus efforts on the depth of those communication skills, and in time maybe I'll lay a little more -" he straightened up a pile of reports, separating the torn top page that would need reprinting "- _autonomy_ on the table."

"Thank you, Sir. I look forward to working with you. Will that be all?" Mai grinned.

Trunks wanted to say thank you, to ask if she was sure she was fine with his words and behaviour and the physical discomfort she must have endured at moments, and to otherwise fuss about her thoughts and feelings. But her ki displayed her honesty, still warm towards him, and he knew that if he fell into a paranoid mess whatever spell they'd concocted here would be broken. 

"That will be all, Miss. Please take your leave." He fetched his laptop from the desk drawer to give her a moment to finally end the scene by stepping into her oiled overalls. With alarm he spotted his disheveled, blurred reflection in the login screen and hurried to put on his glasses to straighten his tie and bangs. That was close.

He caught her conspiratorial smile from the corner of his eye, and he wrestled against his own, biting the tip of his tongue to keep it that way, but that wasn't what she was laughing at. "You might want this," Mai said, tossing his suit jacket across the desk.

Trunks snatched it from the air, inspecting all angles for a record of their transgression. Other than a crease on the back it was thankfully clean. That was even closer. 

Mai was already at the door, hair tied, infiltratory clipboard retrieved, the game fast becoming a dream. "I have one question," she said, and Trunks was glad she caved first. "Did you pretend I was someone else?"

There was no point denying it. It was her intention, after all. "Yes. You know I'd never -"

"I know. And I thought you did, I sensed the changes in your touch. But did you like it?"

Did he like it? Giving in to that heady primal urge? Corrupting her? Manufacturing a sexy conspiracy, and all without repercussion? "I was disgustingly horrid towards her in a manner that I would never condone. But... I loved it."

She chuckled. "Interesting. I tried to see you differently, like how others do - you know, the ones who think they know you through gossip columns and probably _would_ play along with anything you asked to get underneath you."

"And?"

"I guess if that's the kind of ravishing people are imagining goes on in here, I can understand the fuss." But before he could grill her on exactly what others were saying, she had the door unlocked. "Well, I have an actual motor to get running. I hope I'll see you tonight," she added, her voice sultry in emphasis. She flicked the secrecy curtain off and daylight flooded in as the door clicked closed behind her. He sat transfixed at her triumphant ki bobbing through the corridor, before remembering himself and rushing to open the windows. The busy city sounds and tang of pollution flooded in with the hot air, soon erasing any trace of their activities from his office. Though not from his mind.

He returned to his computer and called the Exec Assistant. She answered with her brisk 'hello' and her camera off, which was for the better as Trunks did not want to make eye-contact with any direct reports right now.

"Shohi, Can you swap my 4.30 and 5pm today? I need to leave at 5.30 on the dot, and you know Merlo..."

"Yes. I'd like to go home on time, too. Consider it done, or Merlo and his fishing updates cancelled for the greater good."

"Thank you." He ended the call, spinning back to the windows and the empire he'd played to own beyond. He slouched, staring into the middle distance, pinching his bottom lip in thought.

Mai's parting words about tonight, and the way she'd stopped him when trying to help her climax with a "not yet"...

She'd given him a lot today, at her request he'd written and directed but she'd most certainly produced and starred. There was payback due on the horizon, he could feel it. Yet a satisfied grin finally crawled across his face. Despite the ominous uncertainty, he couldn't wait for the sequel's script to land in his lap.


End file.
